


Burdened

by murpymurpwriter



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Thorin Oakenshield Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 02:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6405001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murpymurpwriter/pseuds/murpymurpwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Thinking himself unwanted and traitorous, Bilbo decides to leave quietly, without saying goodbye to the hurt but alive company. They are understandably heartbroken and confused but when they discover the reason Bilbo left, they decide to bring him back to Erebor, no matter what. Kidnapping HKM Prompt</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burdened

If anything, asking for directions in the Shire was the last straw as it made it abundantly clear how bad of an idea it was to let their hobbit return West. Originally, they had been reluctantly to go, thinking too much time had passed and perhaps hoping they would be contacted first by Bilbo. They'd even been hesitant to leave their lodgings in Bree, so close to Hobbiton they could practically smell freshly baked bread and the lilacs from Bilbo's garden; for what would they do if they were met with scowls or slammed doors, despite the note? But the lass they stopped, after sneering at their dirtied clothes, weaponry, and excess hair, finally, began a tirade of epic proportions that stunned even the usually diplomatic Balin and certainly strengthened their resolve.  
  
"Now you look here, " she hissed, " The Shire has no want for your lot coming in and filling the minds of fauntlings with adventure. You may have been able to take that Mad Baggins, but I'll have you know he is about the farthest thing from a respectable hobbit. You won't find any other to follow you so I advise you simply turn back around! A good morning to you!"  
  
"Ma'am, " Bofur began with a frown, " We ain't after no hobbits. We're just a visitin'-"  
  
The hobbit scoffed, " It'd be best if you took him with you after your visit. Why, life would certainly be a lot more peaceful without him and his dwarves and elves and wiza-"  
  
"Must you blather on? Tell us where he is and we'll be gone!" Dwalin snapped, startling the hobbit into a fearful silence.  
  
She pointed to the left of the path where a row of homes, smials as they were called, could be seen in the distance. With no other instruction, she scampered away with wide eyes but an insulted frown; a basket of fresh bread was left in her wake and Kili had no qualms scooping it up. Shrugging and grumbling at the whole encounter, the group started towards Bagshot row. It took some time, some doubling back as hobbits gawked at them from behind window panes and peepholes, and then when they were squabbling over what color Bilbo's door had been, the right smial seemed to magically pop into existence.  
  
But it looked nothing like before.  
  
What were once proud rose bushes were withered, gnarled stubs. Gone were the tulips and the honeysuckles and the yellowing leaves on the lilac bushes warned that they were soon to succumb to whatever sickness had taken over the garden. It was surprising, considering how Bilbo seemed to take great pride in growing things if his bragging during their journey was any indication. Suddenly Fili's foot nudged something. Someone had left a can of foul liquid by the gate, which had been wired shut. If he didn't know better, the elder Prince would have thought the cans' contents were- He suddenly noticed more poison filled cans throughout the garden, looking as if they had been thrown in from the gate. Sharing his thoughts with the other dwarves, the six of them all lept over (even Bombur who nearly bowled it over) the gate in a rage. Mad Baggins they called him, when in Erebor he was the Brave Barrel Rider, the Riddling Luckwearer; to think the Shire was so, so...!  
  
Reaching for the door handle, Dwalin let out a confused hum when he found it, of all things, locked. Hadn't Bilbo said hobbits never locked their doors? And that if they came to visit, an invitation offered in the farewell note left in Thorin's chambers only a year ago. Should they should just walk in? Should they assume the invitation had been rescinded? Exchanging worried looks, Bombur took a few steps back and they cleared the way. The heavy dwarf charged and with a crack, the hinges came apart and the door swung open wide. They would gladly fix the door and endure Bilbo's lecture, if it meant making sure their hobbit was alright.  
  
Silence greeted them, not even a yell about muddy boots. They slowly entered and while the dimly lit smial was clean and tidy, they found it was short quite a bit of furniture. No more vases or paintings, or rugs even, decorated the home and the air was stale, a result of doors and windows being barred tight. It was completely unlike when they had visited before and this just settled it; there was no way they were returning to Erebor without their burglar.

They were about to search every room in the smial when a relieved sigh drew their attention, Bilbo appearing right before their eyes in the entryway to their left. Sting was still brandished and as the hobbit tucked something into his pocket, their exclaims of joy and relief caught in their throat. They had assumed Bilbo would have returned to his plump, cheerful state by now, and yet he looked relatively the same as when he'd returned from Ravenhill, minus the bandage on his head, the armor they'd last seen him in, and the grime of both travel and battle. But the ill fitting, brightly colored hobbitish apparel just made it obvious that Bilbo had had few moments of joy and peace in the Shire. What had the Shire hobbits denied their burglar, other than respect and a garden, they wondered. Surely, a warrior who would face goblins and trolls and wargs of all things would not let themself be victim to snobby hobbits.  
  
"Laddie, " Balin began but couldn't find the words.  
  
"Mister Boggins, " Kili tried but Fili intercepted in a flat tone, " You locked your door. But you said in the note we were welcome-"  
  
Bilbo winced, " Why, yes. I'm afraid I've had to since...well, I wasn't expecting such esteemed visitors! I-I apologize for the state of things. Come! I'll put the kettle on. And perhaps I have something in the pantry-"  
  
"No need for all that, " Dwalin hissed, unnerved by everything they had seen, " Reckon we'll be in Bree by dark, if we head out now."  
  
Bilbo bit his lip in disappointment, clearly misunderstanding as he wrung his hands, " Surely you can stay just a bit longer? A single cup of tea perhaps if the business that brought you near the Shire isn't too urgent? I do hope all is well in Erebor."  
  
"Bilbo, " Bofur began in what nearly sounded like a whimper, " We're here because- "  
  
But the hobbit wasn't listening, mumbling about getting the kettle going in a jiffy. He quickly placed Sting into the braided belt at his waist that kept his baggy trousers up, lacking a proper sheath. He looked harried, as he straighten his wrinkled westkit and moved past the company into the kitchen. Confused, they could only follow, watching as he fluttered about, disappearing into where they remembered the pantries to be but coming up with only a bit of dried meat, two potatoes, half a wheel of cheese, and a handful of over ripe cherry tomatoes. Mumbling something about maybe a simple soup, he looked ashamed yet relieved when Kili set the basket of fresh bread on the table. Then, he recognized the basket.  
  
" Please, for the love of all things green, " Bilbo's voice was a frightened whisper, " Tell me Camellia Sacksville gave you that bread, having come to regret her kin poisoning my garden and not while under duress. "  
  
The company was silent and Bilbo was paling fast, gripping the counter to steady himself as he laughed with a tinge of hysteria. Bofur placed a worried hand on Bilbo's shoulder, eyes widening when he felt a prominent shoulder blade under his hand. The hobbit, silencing their attempts to explain with a wave of his hand, closed his eyes as he composed himself.  
  
"I-I understand she must have been most...unpleasant for you all to rob her, " Bilbo paused with a shaky sigh, "But let's not talk about that now. T-tell me, since your visit is so brief. A year has likely brought quite a lot of change to Erebor, and you likely have more to talk about than I. Have you all just stopped by on your way from the Blue Mountain?"

  
"Bilbo," Kili nearly shouted, causing Bilbo to spill the last of the ground tea leaves he had been carefully spooning out, " Uncle was fit to be tied when you left! We would have come right after you but everything was a mess after the Battle. But things are better now and Thorin ordered that we retrieve you-"  
  
"Why did you ran away?" The company turns to their plumpest member. Bombur looks as surprised as the rest of them, not really the type to speak after all, but his words seem to be what reach the guilty looking hobbit.

" I-I know I caused a lot of trouble with the Arkenstone. I had hoped it would all turn out well and the stone could be returned to Thorin when he was well. What with you all injured, and with Dain collaborating on the restoration plan, plus the elves and Bard starting negotiations...I suppose I thought I could slip away-"

Bilbo nervously fiddled with the stirring spoon, turning their words over in his mind and hoping he misunderstood; had...had he not been forgiven afterall? Was this visit, one he prayed and dreamt of in his darkness moments, actually something far more serious? Then Dwalin, who had wandered off instead of following them into the kitchen, entered the poorly furnished room with a scowl, a napsack stuffed with whatever he deemed fit for their smallest company member to take (which likely included no handkerchiefs, quills and paper, or the like). Bilbo stared in mild indignation at his things being taken. Sputtering weakly that he would have gladly given them what they needed if they told him instead of just taking, he was quickly interrupted by a frustrated Balin, " Lad, do you truly not see we've no choice but to take you to Thorin?"  
  
Bilbo's knees finally buckled because he could no longer ignore the truth, that what he had hoped was friends visiting was really him being arrested for his deeds; over and over he mumbled "no" as the company looked on in shock. He knew he deserved what was to come but he was a coward at heart and while he'd likely hold his head high during the trial, he knew the sight of Thorin, his eyes full of betrayal, would be too much. Bofur had quickly dropped to his knees beside Bilbo as Fili rushed to tend to the screaming kettle, flinching when Bilbo scurried further under the dining table to escape the hatted toymaker's embrace.  
  
"No, no, I-I can't, " Bilbo wailed, " Please, was the stone not returned?! I took no payment with me, I truly believed that by leaving my treason was forgiven-"  
  
Balin wheezed, "Treason?"  
  
"Calm yourself, hobbit!" Dwalin growled over his brother, moving a dining chair so he could grab the small figure by the ankle but Bilbo just moved closer to the table's center, kicking out his large feet with a yelp, " This's nothing to do with the stone!"  
  
Stunned, Kili kneeled on the ground, offering an uneasy smile as he moved a chair and crawled partially under the table. Bilbo, seeing that the rest of the company was standing around the dining table and blocking his escape completely, began to hyperventilate. Bumping his head with a faint ow, the younger prince inched closer, " Mr. Boggins, it's alright! Uncle-"  
  
"T-Thorin understood, " Bilbo wheezed, pressing a small hand to his own chest as if that could slow his breaths, " W-was it just his injury, m-making him offer forgiveness? I beg you! I-I know you've already offered mercy as my friends-"  
  
"Of course Uncle has taken back what he said to you, Bilbo. Please, we don't understand why you're acting this way. I-it's mad!"  
  
The prince doesn't understand the impact of his words until they all see Bilbo freeze, his grip tightening on the collar of his shirt now that his rapid breaths have stopped altogether. Mad. Everyone, the Shire and now the dwarves he once called friends...they all thought him mad and maybe he was for thinking he could avoid trial for his theft of the Arkenstone, could live happily when he had outright disturbed the peace of the Shire. No, he was a traitor who deserved what he got and he could understand Thorin rescinding his pardon. Still, he cried out when a tight grip on his bicep resulted in him being pulled out form under the table. He flinched when Dwalin addressed him harshly, "So you will fight us then, reject Thorin's request?"  
  
It wasn't the right question because Bilbo, hand letting go of his shirt, had a moment of self preservation. Dwalin released the hobbit, not wanting to hurt him when he tried to twist out of his grip. Fast as lighting, a ring was pulled from Bilbo's pocket and he disappeared right before their eyes. The company yelled, darting forward but Bilbo was already gone, their hands meeting open air.

 

\---

The dwarves were stubborn.  
  
Bilbo expected that and after three days of sleeping down by the river, not too uncomfortable in the soft grass, he realized how foolish it was to think he could wait them out. Happily drinking and washing in the clear water, he soon had to chance a trip inside Bag End. He needed a change of clothes that included a coat, and if he was going to leave the Shire his coin purse was absolutely a requirement. Plus, a walking stick would do him well, and some food other than the bitter, edible weeds he found nearby might cure the headache currently plaguing him. So he checked in the evening, always spying a light on or a shadow by the window but desperation won out. Already sick from the rationing he'd done as a result of his banning from the local market, he was familiar with some places in Hobbiton that may not recognize him if he couldn't get to a bigger city. He'd been meaning to make a trip to restock, given recent developments in his garden, but it wasn't an easy journey and his strength had never really returned. But what choice did he have now but to leave yet another home in bad standing...  
  
If I can sneak in from the back, he thinks as his temple throbs, I'll just grab my things and head to the back roads, follow the Brandywine.  
  
He manages to sneak inside in the wee hours of the fourth morning, chilled by the night air and the ground which easily stole his body heat as he laid by the river. The door opened and closed behind him, silently. He tiptoed through his smial, appreciating that it wasn't a mess despite the dwarven guests and soon he realized he didn't see or hear anyone in his home. He moved a little less carefully, not even hearing snores as he passed by the bedrooms for his coat and coin, and then into the living room for his walking stick, not hearing a whisper or shuffling though the fire was going. Moving through the halls of his childhood home with wariness, he spied no one in the mud room so speeding up, he came to a rapid stop in the kitchen. His eyes watered and his legs suddenly felt like jelly; the sight of six dwarves at his dining table made him remember when there had been thirteen. Considering he was a traitor, he dared not call them friends despite all they had been through, but he was painfully aware that they would never be strangers ever again, atleast not in his eyes.  
  
Maybe he should just give in to show he appreciated their merciful kindness, came the sudden thought; and go with them so he could finally meet his fate. But just thinking of seeing Thorin- he bumped into the round doorway to the kitchen as he tried to quickly leave, startling the dwarves with the thud. He fell back onto the floor, vision fading away as he heard the clatter of empty plates being shoved away.

"He's here!" Bofur hissed.  
  
"Bilbo-" Kili pleaded, as he raced towards the exit as if he could catch the figure he couldn't see; he yelped as he tripped over...nothing? The others swarmed, grabbing onto the invisible shape, fumbling until Bombur recognized a sleeve, a hand, and then the ring. Bilbo blinked into existence, his eyes shut and body slack. He was easy to carry to the living room and cold to the touch, but still breathing, they noted.  
  
"Oh Mahal, " Fili muttered, rubbing his face, " And we thought he'd be happy to see us."  
  
"If Thorin had been well, he would have rectified this misunderstanding long ago...before any of this trouble could begin, " Balin said fiercely, shaking his head as Bofur wrapped Bilbo in a blanket and Dwalin laid him down on the floor near the lit hearth. With so little furniture, they had no choice but to sit on the floor as well, cross legged and grim faced.  
  
"We hold no grudges about the stone, " Bofur mumbled, " Bold as it were, likely twas what helped Thorin break from the sickness."  
  
"Ay, but he perhaps doesn't know he's been pardoned." Balin says gently; enough had passed that the crimes of the hobbit had been forgotten or lost in the joy of Erebor's rebuilding, " If we had come sooner, instead of assuming he was simply eager to head West, things would be much improved."  
  
"Never did I think he'd be livin' this way among the halflings, " Dwalin says grumpily, his eyes revealing much more than just frustration; a long moment of silence follows until a sudden idea is voiced. Bombur's lip trembles, "Mayhaps, he don't think he deserves better."

An even more uncomfortable silence persists as they look around the less than welcoming living room, at the less than happy and hale hobbit...The note that Bilbo left them had been short and demure, offering gratitude for their kindness and wishing them well, even saying they could visit but still, the apology at the end for a vague "everything" had stood out.  
  
"Heptifili's Burden, " Fili said gravely and the group, though they had been thinking it, had been hesitant to mention the illness aloud due to how personal it was to the princes. Afterall, it was the husband of Princess Dis who was found among the dead during the Battle of Azanulbizar, barely alive. And yet when he recovered enough to speak, he had refused further treatment and had even refused to see his kin as he grew weaker and weaker. When he passed, an illness was named in remembrance and an unspoken law between warriors was forged. If a warrior's heart became burdened like Heptifili, by guilt or shame or the like, then it was the responsibility of his brothers in arms to make decisions in regards to his health until they saw reason. Seeing that Bilbo had refused their invitation home despite the horribleness of his life in the Shire, they had no choice.  
  
They would take on this responsibility for the clearly burdened hobbit and so they settled down to rest for one more night in Bag End. When morning came, they had packed up anything useful in Bilbo's home, any trinkets they thought he might want. They would have to stop to buy everything else, given there was no food left in the smial and their attempts to buy from the Shirelings had been thwarted when shopkeepers refused them with either a squeak or a sputtering "good morning". Balin expressed a belief that their burglar could not buy goods in the Shire either as he pointed out that the meager pantry yield had been from Bree. It just made them all the more determined.  
  
Bilbo woke when a sack was shoved over his head, crying out through the cloth tied around his mouth; he struggled sleepily as his hands were bound. He felt his sword (letter opener) being taken, and he had no idea where the ring was, taken aswell, no doubt. And, as a last minute thought it seemed, they tied a rope around Bilbo's waist, looping it over both shoulder to form a harness. Alarmed, Bilbo heard some kind of argument over the sound of his heart pounding; Fili finally agreed to what ever his brother was saying and the rope around his waist jerked a bit, then went slack. After, Bilbo was lifted and forced to ride piggyback on one of the dwarves.  
  
"Homeward bound, we are!" Bofur cheered quietly, revealing himself as Bilbo's carrier; grumbles and the increased shivering of their hobbit were the only responses.

 

"Hafta take the sack off, gag too if we don't wanna be stopped in Bree, " Dwalin grumbled suddenly after nearly three hours, jarring Bilbo from his light nap; the silence and the continuous movement had lulled him despite his fear and guilt and horror. Plus, alternating between solemn acceptance and panic during the first hour of the journey had tired him out.  
  
"What if they see his hands? What if he yells?"  
  
"Ay, but he won't." The change in lighting caused Bilbo to wince; Balin looked sheepish as he fiddled with the sack in his gnarled hands," Will you, laddie? You know this is for your own good now, doncha?"  
  
Bilbo's eyes started to water and soon silent tears were falling down his cheeks; the company all froze, looking uncomfortably down the road where they could see the beginning of shops and guards posted, then back to Bilbo. Balin and Bofur were the most sympathetic, the others not sure how to react, and surprisingly Fili looked absolutely beside himself, stuck between anger and grief. A hand rubbed at Bilbo's back at first but quickly retreated when he flinched, "Oh, oh now. You needn't tha'. We understand, ye know. This has been a hard year on us all."  
  
Bilbo sobbed through the gag as Bombur started to whisper to Dwalin, who whispered to the princes. Soon, they were settling down with lunch rations and a blanket (one of Belladonna's) in the grass just off the trail. Bilbo allowed himself to be manhandled, sitting down beside the tense dwarves; when he started to choke on his gag, they finally untied the handkerchief wrapped around his mouth. Trembling, he breathed in large gulps of air before a buttered roll was held to his lips. He hesitated but he was so hungry after his failed escape, and he was sure this was a peace offering, so he eventually took a bite. The butter tasted odd but the bread was good, if a bit stale. He barely chewed before he was swallowing, and biting into it again. When he was done, they carefully gave him sips of water from someone's water-skin. It filled his belly to bursting and it was then he started to feel...odd.  
  
"Bilbo?"  
  
His mouth felt so dry all of a sudden and his eyes felt heavy; he started to slump forward but Kili caught him as if his sudden exhaustion was expected, the young dwarf working at his wrist bindings with a frown. All the dwarves were suddenly up, packing and preparing to head down the road as a pliant Bilbo was once more placed onto someone's back.  
  
"-only work for so long. We gotta move in, move out-"  
  
A nauseated Bilbo didn't wake until they were camped for the night, already hours away from Bree and anyone who could help him.  
  
\---  
  
It turned out Kili had been smart to continually link them together as the prince, letting out an oof that woke the rest of the company, was relieved to see Bilbo flung onto his butt when he reached the end of his leash. He wasn't too relieved to see something glitter in the hobbits hand, a sharp rock that he pressed against the rope, sawing several times before Dwalin disarmed him. They had tried to calm the hobbit when his failed escape lead to near hyperventilation but the burglar just stared at them as if they were the one's burdened and in need of tending to.

Fili had to leave for a time to compose himself just outside their campsite, before he returned with an angry frown and red tinged eyes. Falling beside his brother, he finally sighed; it seemed that the company was in for a rough journey. Kili watched as Bofur tried to tempt a calmer Bilbo with 'the best, most drinkable water to ever grace a gentlehobbit's lips so please just bloody drink it'; the younger prince smiled confidently after a long moment, "He'll see reason soon. He'll realize we're helping him before we reach the Misty Mountain."  
  
"It's not that simple, brother, " the blond said, sighing as he stared up at the starry sky, " But we can hope."

\---

"We've avoided Rivendell but Mirkwood... If he seeks sanctuary with the weed-eaters, it may cause problems."  
  
Balin huffs at his brother, " Like we don't have enough with them already..."  
  
"Could travel 'long the edge. The forest is healin' so we're unlikely to get lost but no doubt they've got their eyes out for tha' likes of us..." Bofur contributes.  
  
"We could use the tonic again?" Kili whispers but judging by the less than amused looks, his whisper wasn't so quiet, " The folks in Bree mistook him for a sleepin' dwarfling."  
  
"Do you really think the elves would not recognize the hobbit who delivered to their King and Bard the Arkenstone? " Fili said flatly, " Ay, and at that, the only hobbit at the Battle of the Five Armies?"  
  
"Well, when you put it like that..."  
  
Clearing his throat to catch their attention, Bilbo closes his eyes, " Or...I could give you my word that I'll come with you willingly from here on."  
  
They turn sharply to him where he lies on his side in the dirt; a rope is still wrapped around his thin middle (connected to Bombur this time, meaning he's on a short leash) and his wrists are bound though the gag has slipped to hang damply around his neck. The dwarves are gaping since he hasn't spoken since Bree; then, Fili looks suspicious. The blond prince had been uncharacteristically distant since the start and it hurts; Bilbo had been relatively compliant since they crossed the Misty Mountain path but he supposes that there is more than just his unrespectable behavior causing Fili's anger. After all, wouldn't the heir to the throne rightly despise a traitor? And it is with these thoughts that he presses on with less confidence than before. He'd been thinking about giving in for some time but it wasn't easy, accepting that you were to be executed or imprisoned in a foreign country by the person you once loved. And while death or life imprisonment was frightening, Bilbo was bothered mostly by what Thorin would say to him, how he would look with such hate and betrayal on his face with no dragon sickness to excuse it. Perhaps the company thought he could endure such punishment, that we wouldn't be killed outright but Bilbo knew neither were true; one look at his One and he'd crumble like a dry leaf. One look at a traitor, and a death sentence was sure to come.  
  
Still, the longer they traveled, the more nostalgia he felt for the original journey and the more guilt he felt for struggling. The dwarves, despite him forcing them to come all this way to capture him, they tended to him like one would a close friend and in return he owed them this, owed them the same consideration that a close friend would offer. And in this case, it meant surrender.  
  
"I-if you still trust my word a-as a gentlehobbit. "  
  
Bofur claps him on the back once he's untied, " We do. Always have, and when we get to Erebor, you'll see how silly your frettin' was!"  
  
Bilbo nods, coming to sit with them around the fire. He winces as he rubs his wrists, his mouth tingling without the handkerchief blocking his breaths. They offer him food and water; he hesitates but when he notices their looks, he indulges just enough to get them to relax. After all, he promised compliance and what was the point, dying of starvation or dehydration? At least this way his fate, whatever Thorin saw fit, would offer the company closure.  
  
He sipped his soup, eyes taking in the relieved faces off the company. He offered them a sad smile, admiring their loyalty to their king and the forgiveness they showed someone like him. Sitting here, the sky streaked with orange and purples, the air crisp in his lungs as crickets began their evening concert; if he tried, he could pretend that he was still just a fussy hobbit on his first adventure, unruly dwarrow leading him through nearly endless danger as they each wormed their way into his heart. But he could pretend for only a second, before the visage of a solemn faced, dark haired dwarf peering at him across a crackling fire, of that same dwarf pulling him into a hug that made his heart stop...No, that time had gone, even if he would always call them family in the privacy of his heart.  
  
He owed them this, owed Thorin his vengeance. He could deny none of them.

 

\--

Arms wrap around him cautiously, then in an instant they're painfully tight. He lets out a frightened gasp (He was not expecting this when he was literally dragged through the mountain, second thoughts turning his promise of compliance into ash; he may have even yelled when they suddenly shoved him into the throne room to face not only Thorin but Princess Dis, and the rest of the company). Still, in spite of his reaction, he is not released. Instead, Thorin buries his face into the hobbit's shoulder with a shuddering sigh,  
  
"I never imagined you so cruel, to part from us as if we did not save each other's lives countless times."  
  
"T-Thorin-"  
  
"But I suppose I deserve nothing else, " the king finally pulled away to gaze upon Bilbo with guilty eyes, " If you will let me offer penance..."  
  
"Uncle."  
  
Bilbo turns sharply, having soon forgotten that the entire company were all witness to the unexpectedly heartfelt welcome from Thorin. Looking back to said dwarf, he realizes that he is the only thing keeping him upright as Bilbo is shaking badly and his legs are like jam. He takes in an inhale and realizes he's been holding his breath as well; it's then that he notes he's being spoken to, and about in grumbles. He startles, wondering if he's dreaming because looking at Thorin in wonder, he finds the king only continues to stare at him with sadness and compassion.  
  
"You are burdened?"  
  
Bilbo couldn't bare the gaze and looking down at his feet as he tried to remember how to speak, he isn't given the time. The company was suddenly sputtering about the terribleness of the Shire, of their struggles to get Bilbo to come with them, and suddenly Thorin was lifting the hobbit's head so their foreheads could meet, gently though the king's crown wasn't exactly soft.  
  
"Then we shall share in this burden, " Thorin orders and pleads simultaneously.

  
Behind them, the company concurs in various degrees of loudness and gruffness that echo throughout the throne room; Fili and Lady Dis are the only ones who keep silent. In the end, though he feels unworthy and frightened, Bilbo cannot deny them.  
  
So, he stays.  
  
END


End file.
